"I have not heard. Hark! There goes St. Paul's tolling twelve."
"And there goes a flash of fire--the first among many. Look, look! How
they spring up into the black darkness."
"They will not do it long. Look at the sky, my lord."
The earl glanced up at the midnight sky, of a dull and dingy red color,
except where black and heavy clouds were heaving like angry billows, all
dingy with smoke and streaked with bars of fiery red.
"I see! There is a storm coming, and a heavy one! Our worthy burghers
and most worshipful Lord Mayor will see their fires extinguished
shortly, and themselves sent home with wet jackets."
"And for weeks, almost month, there has not fallen a drop of rain,"
remarked Ormiston, gravely.
"A remarkable coincidence, truly. There seems to be a fatality hanging
over this devoted city."
"I wonder your lordship remains?"
The earl shrugged his shoulders significantly.
"It is not so easy leaving it as you think, Mr. Ormiston; but I am
to turn my back to it to-morrow for a brief period. You are aware, I
suppose, that the court leaves before daybreak for Oxford."
"I believe I have heard something of it--how long to remain?"
"Till Charles takes it into his head to come back again," said the earl,
familiarly, "which will probably be in a week or two. Look at that sky,
all black and scarlet; and look at those people--I scarcely thought
there were half the number left alive in London."
"Even the sick have come out to-night," said Ormiston. "Half the
pest-stricken in the city have left their beds, full of newborn hope.
One would think it were a carnival."
"So it is--a carnival of death! I hope, Ormiston," said the earl,
looking at him with a light laugh, "the pretty little white fairy we
rescued from the river is not one of the sick parading the streets."
Ormiston looked grave.
"No, my lord, I think she is not. I left her safe and secure."
"Who is she, Ormiston?" coaxed the earl, laughingly. "Pshaw, man! don't
make a mountain out of a mole-hill! Tell me her name!"
"Her name is Leoline."
"What else?"
"That is just what I would like to have some one tell me. I give you my
honor, my lord, I do not know."
The earl's face, half indignant, half incredulous, wholly curious, made
Ormiston smile.
"It is a fact, my lord. I asked her her name, and she told me Leoline--a
pretty title enough, but rather unsatisfactory."
"How long have you known her?"
"To the best of my belief," said Ormiston, musingly, "about four hours."
"Nonsense!" cried the earl, energetically. "What are you telling me,
Ormiston? You said she was an old friend."